


Cold Front

by PlaidaleckiandSnackles



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic, I'm honestly not sure how to tag this, M/M, Snow, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 13:19:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaidaleckiandSnackles/pseuds/PlaidaleckiandSnackles
Summary: Bucky goes grocery shopping, and spends time with Steve.I have no excuse for this.





	Cold Front

**Author's Note:**

> We had a weird weather day, from 50 degrees during my lunch break to around 3 inches of snow by the time I got home from work, and this was rattling around in my head while I watched it come down. I'm honestly not sure what this is, but I hadn't written these two for a long while and thought they needed some attention.
> 
> per usual, unbeta'd, so all mistakes (and tense changes, since my brain that never writes present wanted to confuse itself today) are my own. I am also very tired and almost positively missed some stuff.

Bucky stood in the bread aisle, looking over the seemingly endless options with confusion and thinly veiled distaste. He just wanted _bread_. Plain bread. His metal hand tightened slightly around the basket handle in his annoyance. His phone rang loudly in his pocket, and he heard the faint crunch of metal under his fingers as he tensed for a moment. He set the basket down at his feet with a guilty wince before pulling his phone from his pocket and sparing a quick glance at the screen before answering.

”Steve?” He tucked the phone between his head and shoulder, retrieving the basket and subtly trying to fix the handle. He grabbed a loaf of bread at random and tossed it in. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in to see when you’re headed home.” Steve answered, sounding slightly distracted, as he often did when he tried to multitask. “And to ask you to pick up a few more things. Looks like there’s a storm moving in.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he rounded the corner of the aisle, eyes tracking to the windows at the front of the store. A blue sky met his gaze, a few wispy, white clouds ambling across it. “Are you sure, Steve?”

“That’s what the weather report says.” Steve mumbled, and Bucky heard the tap of a couple keys as he navigated his laptop.

“Are you looking at the right city?” Bucky asked, threading sincerity through his tone, as he fought a smirk. He picked up the largest jar of crunchy peanut butter he could find and added it to the basket.

Steve huffed an annoyed breath, and Bucky’s smile widened when he heard a muttered _goddamnit_ that was supposed to be too low for him to hear. “Bucky, that was _one time._ ”

“Hey, Stevie, I get it. Technology is hard.” Bucky teased, eyes scanning the shelves for those cookies Steve likes so much.

“Fuck you.”

“It’d be a pleasure.” Bucky purred.

“Shut up.” Steve pouted.

“I can do both.”

“I hate you.” Mumbled Steve before sighing long-sufferingly. “ _Anyway_ , can you pick up some extra stuff? Batteries and matches and maybe easy things we could make without power?”

Bucky nodded to himself, mentally adding them to his list of items. “You do remember we have a Stark generator for emergencies, right Steve?”

“I know, I know. But I don’t want to be the asshole on the block showing off that they have power when everyone else is without, you know?”

Pausing with a box of cereal in his hands, Bucky squinted. “Who’d you give the generator to, Steve?”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, sounding too innocent.

“Steve.”

“I maybe gave it to the in-home daycare near the end of the street.” Steve mumbled before his tone takes on the hard edge of his _I’m-Steve-Rogers-and-I-don’t-back-down-from-a-fight_ voice. “And I’m not sorry. You know Chelsea runs that on her own and that most of her clientele are single parents or low-income households and there’s so many kids that are there overnight, and- “

“ _Steve._ ” Bucky interrupted, rolling his eyes as he passed by the ice cream with a lingering look and a small pout. “I don’t care that you gave Chelsea and the kids the generator. In fact, I wouldn’t care if you called Tony and got every house on the block a goddamn generator.” He smiled gently when Steve made a considering noise, knowing his idea would appeal to Steve. “I’m on your side, you knucklehead.” He grinned when Steve made an offended noise. “Besides,” He continued, tossing matches into the basket. “The idea of a candlelit night with you doesn’t sound exactly repulsive.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Agreed Bucky as he dropped his basket by the self-checkout. He entered Steve’s non-secure phone number in for their rewards and started scanning. “Been awhile since we’ve done something like that.”

Steve hummed. “Definitely not since we moved back to Brooklyn.”

Bucky paid, picking up his bags and leaving the coupons that printed out for the next person. He hooked a finger in the basket, eyeing the slightly mangled handle guiltily. He stepped out the doors, looking up at the sky again and quirking an eyebrow. The breeze stirred up the hair that had fallen out of his errand-running bun. It was chilly, but not uncomfortable. “Are you sure about that storm, Steve?”

“What direction are you facing?” Steve asked with a flat tone.

Pausing for a second mid-step, Bucky calibrated. “North.”

“Look towards the southeast.”

Turning to walk backwards, Bucky’s gaze landed on the store he’d just left, and a line of grey above it. “Store’s mostly in the way, but there’s some clouds above it.” He turned back around, making his way to the unassuming sedan in the corner of he lot. He opened the back door and climbed in, nodding to the driver Happy had set them up with. “I’m on my way back, so I’ll see you soon.”

“Looking forward to it.” Steve teased, affection bleeding through.

Heat crept onto Bucky’s face. “Sap.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Bucky hung up, glancing up at the driver. “Sorry about that. Home, please.” He settled back in the seat, pulling up a game on his phone to pass the time. He was two moves away from beating the level when the sudden splatter of hard rain against the window jerked him to attention.

Redirecting his focus to the windshield, he saw the wipers chasing each other frantically back and forth across the glass. “Where did this come from?” He asked, leaning down to squint past the rain at the dark sky above. Occasionally a drop would hit the glass that was more slush than water.

“Storm’s been moving in all day.” The driver responded, sparing a quick glance to the rearview mirror before shifting in his seat and leaning closer to the wheel, peering at the road.

“We had the windows down on the way here.” Bucky complained quietly, tugging up the zipper on the fleece jacket he’d thrown on at Steve’s insistence before heading out.

“New York.” The guy mumbled as his answer.

 

*****

 

By the time they pulled up in front of the wood frame house he and Steve shared, Bucky was disgusted. The wind was blowing the heavy snow sideways as it fell, and the street signs were already covered over with layers of flat white. The railing around the small porch was piled with snow, and people were bundled up, spreading salt down to try and get ahead of he inevitable ice to come with that night’s temperature drop.

“Thanks, pal. Get back to the garage and get home safe.” Bucky passed the driver his tip before gathering his bags. He took a deep breath and opened the car door, half-jogging, half-sliding across the pavement to their stairs. He reached the shelter of their porch and shook the snow from his hair, reaching for the doorknob, only to have the door open before he made contact.

Steve smirked at him from the doorway, leaning on the frame as he craned his neck to take in the scene behind Bucky, who watched him with a scowl.

“Still think I was looking at the wrong city, Buck?” He smirked, reaching to take a couple bags from Bucky’s grasp and retreating back into the house.

“Still think I was looking at the wrong city?” Bucky mocked grumpily as he followed, nudging the door closed with his foot.

“Aw, c’mon Buck, don’t be a sore loser.” Steve chided, unloading the bags onto the kitchen counter and sliding his hands up Bucky’s chest to drape around his neck. Bucky watched him with an unimpressed look, but the corner of his mouth twitched when Steve leaned in to rub their noses together.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Bucky shifted, setting his bags on the floor and wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “I love you, you prick.”

Steve pulled back, grinning bright like sunshine. “Love you, Buck.” He leaned in to drop a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips before stepping away. “C’mon, let’s get everything put away and get dinner made in case the power goes out.

 

*****

 

The power didn’t go out, but they still turned out the lights and spent the night lit by the fireplace and the candles scattered around the room. They curled up on their couch, Bucky’s legs over Steve’s lap, reading until Steve’s absent touches over Bucky’s ankle and leg became decidedly more determined as he grazed his fingers up Bucky’s inner thigh.

They made out slow and hot, laid out on the couch and pressed close together. Soft sounds fell from both their mouths, battling with the whistling of the wind outside and the occasional pop of the fireplace logs. They moved together, hands roving restlessly, rucking up shirts, tugging at the waistband of sweatpants, and gripping the jut of hipbones, the slight give of the curve of a waist. They came moments apart, breathing harsh against the other’s mouth, soft words pressed against smiling lips.

Later, cleaned up and with Steve dozing against his chest, Bucky watched the window, seeing the snow fall in thick flakes, cascading slowly to the ground in what would surely be actual hell to shovel in the morning. But for the moment, he smiled, pressing a kiss to Steve’s hair before sliding out from under him, soothing Steve’s grumbled complaint with another kiss to his temple.

He checked his phone, seeing it was just before midnight. He chose a hoodie from the closet, pulling it on and slipping his feet into snow boots that he’d let Steve force him into getting, but was secretly thankful for.

He opened the door and stepped out onto the shelter of their porch, leaning lightly against one of the slim columns that supported the porch roof and separated sections of railing. He shoved his hands into his pockets and reveled in the quiet of the street, the thick layer of snow on the ground muffling the sound into something muted, like listening to the world from underwater. He stood there for a while, his breath coming out in clouds in front of him.

The door opened behind him, and he heard a small tut before it closed again. He shook his head, hearing the opening and closing of the closet door and a quiet curse, then the door opened again, and Steve was behind him.

“Bucky, it’s freezing out here. How are you wearing a hoodie?” Steve chastised, wrapping a blanket and his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and hooking his chin over the right side.

 

“зимний солдат.” Bucky replied quietly, his shoulder twitching in an aborted shrug. “It doesn’t affect me like it did once.” He leaned back into Steve’s warmth anyway, tilting his head to rest against Steve’s. “You help, though.”

Steve tipped his head and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s neck, dragging his nose up the curve of his ear. “It’s peaceful like this, huh?” He murmured, arms tightening around Bucky, who nodded. “Wanna go to bed?”

Bucky scanned the street once more before agreeing. He turned in the circle of Steve’s hold and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Steve and picking him up a few inches off the ground as he carried him back inside their home, Steve’s face buried against his neck.

 

*****

 

The streetlights outside reflecting off the fresh snow cast a strange orange glow into their bedroom, but from where he lay beneath Steve, whose lips were pressing a reverent path along his skin, Bucky couldn’t help but to feel thankful for everything that got them there, weather be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> зимний солдат - Winter Soldier
> 
> Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr with the same handle, though I' m very seldom active since the great Purge.
> 
> kudos/comments keep me warm during dumb winter weather.


End file.
